Little Red
by dru.solis
Summary: A retelling of Little Red Riding Hood. Written in 2004 for my Fables & Fairy Tales class. Wolves get bad raps, and I think they are beautiful and noble looking animals.
1. Chapter 1: The Cloak

It was autumn -- when the leaves, rusted with age, began to drop down from their high perches and the wind washed over the land like the waves of a tempestuous ocean that the package came. Rachel's mother, anxious to close the door and lock out the mournful howl of the wind, earnestly accepted the package from its tiny deliverer, a youth of barely twelve years. The young boy eagerly took the small coin offered to him and, shoving his hands deep within his coat pockets, hopped down the front steps to disappear in the vast gray sea of dust and leaves.

Rachel's mother shut the door with a quick kick and regarded the unexpected package with mild curiosity. It was light, barely enough to be used as a doorstop. The box was a plain brown with a lone sticker of little dancing teddy bears to hold down the flaps. It was smooth to the touch and warm. With a dreamy sigh, Rachel's mother set the package down on the dining room table.

"Oh mother," she said softly. "What have you sent your little granddaughter now? Rachel! You have mail!"

At first there was no response. Then the gallop of small feet could be heard, the rumbling grew louder as though the head of a stampede was approaching the dining room. It moved from the downstairs to the hallway, through the living room, rising to a crescendo in the kitchen, and stopped abruptly at the foot of Rachel's mother. The thunder faded and the house ceased its shaking. Rachel looked up at her mother expectedly.

"I got a package?"

"On the table, sweetie."

Rachel climbed up to sit on her knees in her place at the table.

"Rachel," her mother began to scold.

"I know. I know," Rachel said as she reluctantly unfolded her legs from beneath her and sat properly.

With a quick rip from her hands, the box fell open to reveal a beautiful red hood and cloak. Such a cloak it was that as it spilled out of the box it was as though a fierce liquid fire had been set free from its prison. It had the red berries of summer and the crisp apples of the better part of autumn. It held the warmth of July, and Grandmother's love in its deep cardinal folds. Rachel held it close to her ten year old face and felt the soft fabric against her cheek. Oh, Rachel loved that cloak and hood so much that after her mother placed it around her and tied those long red strings around the front of her neck for the first time, Rachel was lost. She so rarely took off that beloved cloak and hood that she was soon given the nickname, "Little Red."

It was not long afterwards, in the dead of winter, when news came that Little Red's grandmother had fallen ill. The news was delivered by the same young boy who had first brought the hood. He gladly accepted another coin for his services before dashing back down the road that led through the dark woods.

"What's wrong, mother?" Little Red asked when she saw her mother walk back into the house with a sad look upon her face.

"Oh nothing much, Red. Grandmother is not feeling well. That's all."

"Why don't you give her some of the bread and hot soup you've made? She always loves that. I can bring it to her. I know the way."

"I know, Red. You're right. I'll go get a basket for you to carry them in. When you go, be sure to hurry. I don't want you to be caught in the rain."

"Yes, mother."

And with that her mother left for the kitchen and shortly returned, carrying a small basket. "Here, Red. Take this to Grandmother. Be very careful and hurry back."

"Yes, mother." Little Red gently took the basket from her mother's hands and stood still as her mother adjusted the hood and cloak around her, ensuring the strings would hold tight before sending Red on her way.

Little Red swiftly descended the front steps and hurried along the dusty path and disappeared in the dark forest, her lovely red cloak trailing behind her as though waving one final good-bye to her mother.


	2. Chapter 2: The Wolf

It was dark in forest. The tree branches grew together like the claws of some monstrous underground demon interlacing his fingers. The ground was hard since the rain could not penetrate; the canopy of the treetops was so tight not even sunlight could get through. The wind swept around Little Red violently as though it sought to envelop her in its icy breath. Still, Little Red continued on.

She soon came to a rickety wooden bridge covered in moss and half rotted that stretched over a rapid moving brook. Little Red had forgotten of this place, it had been so long since she had visited Grandmother. She last saw her Grandmother when she was six, and even then Mother had to carry her over the bridge for she was too scared to set her foot upon the worn wooden planks.

"I must cross the bridge," Little Red told herself. "It is the quickest way to Grandmother's, and Mother is counting on me to get there as fast as I can."

Little Red timidly placed her foot down on the first plank and gently tested her weight on it. It creaked loudly. As Little Red began to bring her other foot forward, the board beneath her suddenly fell away. Little Red let out a loud cry of alarm and grabbed the wooden railing with a trembling hand. She managed to stumble backwards onto solid ground before the railing came apart in her hands and disappeared in the torrent of water below. Her cry echoed through the forest around her.

As Little Red picked herself up from the ground she closed her eyes tightly and waited for her heartbeat to slow. "Perhaps I should find another way," she said, dusting off her scarlet cloak. She was about to turn around and search along the brook for another path when she heard something moving out in the darkness. It was a rustling of bushes and the snapping of twigs and leaves beneath heavy feet -- feet much too heavy for a man. Little Red could almost feel the creature's chilly breath upon the back of her neck while her own breath came in short punctuated gasps as she looked about her furiously. Her eyes always came back to the bridge.

"It's the only way," she said to herself.

Little Red took a deep breath and gritted her teeth. She sprinted as fast as she could, hoping the monster would be too heavy to cross the bridge after her. Behind her there was a sound of large bushes being pushed aside and footsteps that sounded as though they could knock down trees from their mere echoing. Little Red ran faster, flying across the old bridge, and deeper into the heart of the forest. The cloak behind her billowed and snapped as the wind picked up, made all the more maddening from her fearful running. The footsteps crossed the bridge.

Little Red looked around her as she ran, hoping to find some place to escape to. Over there, in the corner of her eyes, hidden behind a veil of hanging vines was a small cave. She quickly ran towards it, her hazelnut eyes streaming with tears from her terror. She reached the cave and crawled inside just as the sound of footsteps entered the clearing behind her. She crawled deeper into the cave, away from the damp mouth to the warm belly where blue and green outlines of mushrooms shone in the darkness. She huddled deep in the cave with her small legs tucked tightly to her chest, the oversized hood hiding her face in its shadows. She closed her eyes tightly and shivered in fear, straining her ears to listen for any warning that the monster had seen her enter the cave, but nothing but silence came.

Eventually, Little Red ventured towards the cave's entrance and peeked out. There was nothing in the clearing but the wind and rain. Little Red slowly wiped her eyes with the side of her blouse sleeve and sank back into the cave. She quietly picked out a piece of bread that remained in her basket and broke off a small piece and ate it slowly. She was still chewing the meager piece of bread when she suddenly heard a sound to her left. She turned in time to see two shiny eyes staring at her. With a gasp, she dropped her bread and hurried to crawl out of the cave, but something grabbed a hold of her cloak and prevented her from getting away.

"Oh, please," Little Red cried. "Let me go. Please let me go. Don't eat me."

Whatever was holding her cloak did not let go, and Little Red curled into a ball on the cold, damp rocks and wept bitter tears believing her death would come soon. The fabric of her cloak was released, and she soon felt a body of soft fur brush across her side. She opened her eyes to find a pair of crystal blue eyes looking down at her kindly.

"Why are you crying?" asked the wolf.

"I-- I thought you were going to eat me," Little Red began.

"Now," said the wolf as it sat down on its haunches. "Why would I do something like that?"

"Well, you've got such scary eyes."

"The better to see you with," replied the wolf.

"And you've got such large paws."

"The better to follow you with," countered the wolf.

"And you've got such large, sharp teeth."

"The better to smile at you with," and with that the wolf broke into such a wide grin that Little Red soon forgot her terror and loneliness. Seeing the girl thus relieved of her sadness, the wolf laid his head down upon his front paws and stared up at her.

"Now we rarely have visitors in this part of the woods," he said. "Certainly not such young girls as yourself. What is your name, sweet girl? And where are you going? Perhaps I can help."

"I'm Rachel, but everyone calls me 'Little Red.'"

"Ah," said the wolf. "The name fits you well with that beautiful red hood and cloak. How I have often wished for a lovely red coat such as yours. But alas, I am trapped within my fur of dreary gray and cream."

"Your coat looks fine, Mister Wolf. You've never seen yourself in red, have you? Maybe it wouldn't be your color."

"Perhaps you are right," the wolf said, sighing. "But go on. Where were you going?"

"I was going to Grandmother's house," said Little Red proudly. "I know the way by heart even though I haven't been there for a long time. Grandmother was the one who gave me this cloak. She wasn't feeling well and I was going to bring her some hot soup and bread." At the thought, Little Red's eyes darkened into gray rain clouds. Her eyes began to well up into tears and her lower lip trembled ever so slightly.

"But a big monster chased me," she burst out, crying again. "I was so scared. I ran and ran but it was always behind me. I know it was! I found this cave and hid but now I've lost my way and I'll never get to Grandmother's house and I'll never see Mother again." Little Red began to wail loudly, burying her face into her cloak, her body shaking terribly.

"There, there," began the wolf. "It's okay. The monster didn't get you. It's not so terrible, right? Look here, young girl. There's nothing to be afraid of because I, for one, know exactly where you are."

At this, Little Red stopped her crying.

"You do?" she asked, roughly wiping her nose along her forearm.

"Yes, ma'am. You are here. And since we know how you got here, it is a rather simple matter to figure out how to get from here to Grandmother's house, right?"

"I guess," agreed Little Red, sniffling a little.

The wolf looked out of the cave and sniffed the air. "The rain is stopping. I don't smell any monsters around. Shall we go?"

Little Red nodded once, picked up her basket, and followed the wolf out of the cave. The world seemed reborn then. The tree branches no longer clustered so close to each other and spots of sunlight dripped through their tall fingers. It fell squarely on Little Red, illuminating her rich mahogany hair, and on the wolf, making his eyes shine brightly. Together they made their way through the maze of trees and bushes, talking and laughing as though they were old friends, pausing occasionally to smell some flowers or to look at anything that caught their eyes as beautiful or unusual.

It was during one of their pauses, as they stared down at some odd looking mushrooms growing at the foot of a redwood, that a large, ebony colored crow descended down from the sky. It saw the chunks of cheese placed along with the bread and it wanted them desperately. It swooped down with no sound but the wind beneath its wings and landed on Little Red's shoulder. It cawed and beat its wings around at her head, tearing her hood with its claws.

Little Red, trying futilely to dislodged the bird from herself, quickly untied the loved cloak, dropping the basket in the process.

The crow immediately dove for the cheese, but its claws had been tangled in folds of the cloak, bringing it crashing into the ground. The wolf was upon it quickly, snapping his fangs repeatedly at the bird. As soon as he saw an opening, the wolf closed his jaws tightly around the bird, shaking it brutally side to side as the sound of cracking bones came from within the cloak. The bird's movements stopped and it fell limply from the wolf's mouth.

"Are you okay, Red?"

Little Red slowly nodded, her eyes red with tears again.

"That's a relief. I..." the wolf suddenly stopped in mid-sentence. His ears twitched and he sniffed the air.

"What's wrong?" asked Little Red.

"Someone's coming."

Little Red cupped her hands to her ears and listened intensely. She could barely hear it. Heavy footsteps.

"It's the monster," she gasped.

"Quick, Red. Let's run." The wolf dashed off.

"Wait," cried Little Red as she hastily picked up her basket and ripped cloak. She chased after the running wolf, but she tripped and fell to the ground -- hard.

"Red!" cried the wolf.

The footsteps were closer. The wolf raced back to Little Red's side.

"I can't keep up. I'll never make it," cried Little Red.

The wolf looked around them nervously. "Go," he said. "Hide behind a tree." He took the cloak from the ground with his teeth. "I'll lead it away."

With that, the wolf bounded across the field, tossing the cloak a distance away from where Little Red hid with her basket, so that the monster would not be drawn to her area. The footsteps entered the field. The wolf sprinted away and the footsteps followed briefly. They stopped over where the lone cloak had fallen. From her vantage point, Little Red saw nothing of the monster but a large ax head attached to a long curved handle, held by a massive hairy hand. From somewhere in the forest, a wolf's howl emanated and the footsteps at once gave chase. Soon Little Red was left alone in the forest.

She emerged from her hiding place and walked to where her cloak laid, tattered and torn. She knelt down by it, as though it were a lost companion. She gently picked it up, folded it neatly, and placed it in her basket before racing after her friend.


	3. Chapter 3: The Sacrifice

Little Red ducked beneath the branches of a small bush and continued running after the howls. Her hair whipped around her face and danced along with the wind. There, almost there. She could see the town out in the distance.

"Oh please be okay," she prayed for her friend as she urged her legs to carry her still faster.

She arrived at the town's edge a few minutes later and rushed along the street to her Grandmother's house. The gate banged shut behind her as she hurried to the front door. Little Red entered the room and the basket slid from her fingers.

The room was a mess. Tables and chairs were overturned. Pieces of shattered dishes littered the floor. Trapped in a corner, with a terrible wound in his side, was the wolf. The woodsman kicked the wolf with his heavy boot, sending the wolf crashing against the wall.

"No!" shrieked Little Red as she began to run towards the two fighters, but Grandmother, who had been hiding behind one of the large, oak dining room chairs, grabbed her granddaughter's arm and pulled her back.

"Red," the wolf managed to say though some of his ribs were broken. "I have to protect her." The woodsman, distracted for a moment from the Little Red's sudden outburst, let down his guard.

Immediately, the wolf leapt up and clamped his jaws down on the closest limb of the woodsman. The woodsman let out a loud scream of pain as he was dragged down to the floor by his arm. The wolf shook it with his waning strength.

"Oh, no you don't, you brute," Grandmother said as she picked out the container of soup from Little Red's basket.

"Grandmother, don't."

But she did. Grandmother took the soup container and hurled it with all her might at the beast. It hit squarely on the side of the wolf's chest. The sudden pain in his ribs caused the wolf to let go of the woodsman's arm.

The woodsman grabbed the ax and swung it.

"Oh no!" Little Red cried, and buried her head in the crook of her arms.

And in that moment, the world before Little Red turned a dark angry red color. Liquid fire, red and alive, burst forth. And Little Red, only ten years old, was no longer a child.


	4. Epilogue: Song of the Wolves

Rachel, aged twenty-five, hung up her coat in the closet. She lived alone in this house, far away from town, set deep in the woods. She liked being alone. There was no one to bother her, nobody to disturb her. And on nights like this, when the summer air is as warm and fresh as an apple pie straight out of the oven and the wind is balance just so, she would go out into the woods and lie down among the soft field grass. The stars would shine brightly down upon her, and on such nights she would reach into her pocket and bring out the small patch of wolf's fur, the one part that the woodsman had thrown to her to keep her quiet after he had killed and skinned her beautiful friend.

On nights like this, if she closed her eyes and listened hard, she could hear the beautifully haunting song of wolves howling. Sometimes she would join them in their howling but always she would wrap her new cloak around herself and lay her head down on the lone piece of fur she clasped in her hands. Her new cloak was beautiful, just as red and lovely as the one before, but when she closed her eyes and drew the fur, still stained red from his sacrifice, to her face, she knew it would never ever be as beautiful as he was.


End file.
